


destructive attitudes in paris

by sventeen



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Angst, Gen, diffriding for fun and profit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-24 00:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10730805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sventeen/pseuds/sventeen
Summary: enishi satoru, scharhrot vampir, same difference right





	destructive attitudes in paris

This part of Dark Zone is... unusually quiet, he thinks. In his fights, his images, he could always hear the flapping of bats and the calls of nightbirds, the brush and trees rustling with strange life. What surrounds him in that ruined courtyard now, though, is nothing but silence.

Then there come footsteps, stark against the nothing. He turns, and finds that familiar man.

"Enishi Satoru, are you not?"

Satoru can't help but stare. He knows the other intimately, knows him as his own Avatar, Scharhrot Vampir-- yet, this meeting feels unreal. "... I am."

"Of course. I knew that I could not have been wrong." Scharhrot reaches out, takes Satoru's hand in his claws and brings it to his lips, leaving a kiss at his knuckles. "I could never mistake the scent of my Vanguard."

Satoru's sure that a single slip of the other's finger could take his own clean off. Despite his reputed bloodlust, Scharhrot is rather precise in his actions. "What did you want with me?"

Though he looks up from Satoru's hand, he doesn't drop it quite yet. "Ah, you see, I have only a humble request. I've grown curious of your world... Earth, I believe you call it?"

Satoru nods. "Um, what did you want to know? I can try my best to tell you about it."

Here, the corners of Scharhrot's lips turn up, and he pulls Satoru in closer, as if bringing him into a dance. "You needn't tire your mouth, boy. Simply hearing of this world is no help. It seems there are sources of power there that are unknown to me, and I wish to pursue them."

"Well, I... I don't really know how to do that."

The silence returns. Scharhrot looks at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to think of some solution he himself has long entertained.

"Ah, you know... this image of ours is connected," he finally says. "Just as it can join our minds here, it can also join our forms."

"What do you mean?"

"My request is this-- become my vessel. Allow me to roam your world in your form." When Satoru's eyes widen, Scharhrot knows he's realized. "Fret not-- I would not keep you forever. When I am satisfied, or perhaps, when I grow bored, I shall bring you back about safe and sound. I may be a fiend, but to you, I would not lie."

There's something like understanding, at first. The Unit before him is one Satoru holds closest to him, one that has watched him, fought with him through his wrongs and fights with him now as he tries to right them. Scharhrot has shown his small self this great world, has lead his ugly heart to such beautiful people.

Yet, he's only seen that great world and been with those beautiful people for a little while. It's still new, even for him, still something he's just barely explored.

And Scharhrot is... a vampire, in the end. A monster that kills and kills, night after night. Ruthless, single-minded, hungry for power so all-encompassing it can never seem to reach it. Satoru knows this, because at this point, Satoru knows Scharhrot better than he knows even himself.

"I'm... sorry," he says after a breath. "I can't. Not right now." Scharhrot cocks his head, and Satoru hurries to continue. "N-Not when I'm in the middle of what I'm doing right now... I've barely figured out my own place in that world... so I can't. Not yet."

Though Scharhrot's smile fades, he hums and replies, "I see."

"B-But maybe... maybe soon, when I--"

Scharhrot's claws dig into his hand and the side of his arm, but the pain is nothing compared to his teeth sinking deep into Satoru's nape. His shriek startles owls from the branches around them, and now there really is no life beyond theirs.

"You see, boy," Scharhrot says low, breath hot at Satoru's skin, "I made my request, and you seem to feel you have a choice-- but I will not be refused, not even by my own Vanguard." His tongue rakes the fresh blood oozing at the other's neck as his mouth rises higher, crooning in his ear, "yours is the sweetest I've tasted." He closes his eyes and his body melts into dark, oppressing mist that surrounds the other, paralyzing him, sinking into his very flesh with unbearable weight.

Satoru chokes on his cry for help-- he knows there is nobody to hear it. "P-Please..." he starts instead, "d-don't... don't hurt them..." Tears drip to the cracked ground, slipping from the leaves of plants far too dead to care. "A-Anjou... Okazaki... Jaime... Am, and Luna... don't hurt them, please...! I don't... want to do that... ever again..."

"Though for you, I will try, I make no promises," the echo of Scharhrot's voice comes, loud and resounding from somewhere in his own head.

Through the pain and tears and racing pulse, there's some part of him that's elated, Satoru realizes-- some piece of that still-ugly heart that recognizes its other soul is finally settling within him, welcomes it with open arms.

As his mind grows dim and his right hand burns, he wonders if, maybe, there really never was a choice.

Maybe this was simply fate-- inescapable fate.

_Of course--_

And then he's gone.


End file.
